Laozi's words acted as a balm for Yuanshi's wounded pride. Much of the weight on his heart lifted, and a faint, cold smile finally returned to his lips.
They were the Sanqing—the three pure ones appointed by the Dao Ancestor himself as destined Saints. Their path to Sainthood was a certainty of the Heavenly Dao. No matter how peerless the Three Crows appeared today, in the long river of time, such strength would ultimately prove to be for naught.
As Laozi had analyzed, the Path of Laws was an arduous and treacherous road. To attempt to Attain the Primordial Chaos through such means... one would likely cultivate until the end of time itself without ever reaching the finish line.
But they were different. They walked the path of Sainthood established by Hongjun. As Saints of the Heavenly Virtue, the moment they attained their true status, every soul in the Great Desolation—including the Golden Crows—would fall under their absolute control.
After a long while, Yuanshi fully reconciled his thoughts. The white-hot rage that had consumed him dissipated, leaving only a lingering trace of dissatisfaction. He turned his gaze toward Tongtian, his eyes narrowing as he revisited the recent catastrophe.
"Third Brother, during the struggle with the Three Crows, why did you refuse to unleash the Immortal Slaying Sword Formation? The Dao Ancestor himself proclaimed that once this formation is manifested, it requires four experts of equal level to break it."
"If you had laid down the formation, we would not have lost to those Crows at all!"
His tone was one of open questioning and deep dissatisfaction. In his mind, they hadn't lost because of a lack of strength, but because Tongtian had been stubbornly foolish.
This defeat was a stain on what he considered his glorious, peerless life. Even if they achieved Sainthood in the future and slaughtered the Three Crows, the fact of this defeat would remain etched in the history of the world. Every living being would remember that the Sanqing had once been trampled by the Golden Crows.
Tongtian listened to the interrogation and paused. "Second Brother, the situation was far too urgent. There was simply no time to properly manifest the Immortal Slaying Sword Formation."
"Furthermore, our three-on-three was a battle of martial prowess. A formation is an external tool; winning through such means would not have been a reflection of my own ability."
He spoke with an unyielding pride, his sword-like eyebrows sharp with conviction. He possessed his own unique Daoist philosophy, one that favored individual strength over calculated tricks. Besides, Yuanshi's logic was flawed—did he truly believe the Three Crows would stand motionless and watch as he arranged a lethal formation?
"Stupid!" Yuanshi shouted. It was the first time he had unleashed such a massive temper toward Tongtian. Part of it was lingering frustration, but a larger part was genuine anger at Tongtian's perceived naivety.
"If you are so capable, why did you not defeat the Three Crows with your own power then?"
"Second Brother, you go too far! I naturally have my own reasons for following my Dao. What is wrong with that?" Tongtian's eyebrows shot up. He was also beginning to feel the heat of anger; he did not agree with Yuanshi's utilitarian view of combat.
Being insulted as "stupid" was especially galling. Yuanshi had been the one beaten into a tattered state, yet he was venting his spleen on his own brother.
Yuanshi glared back, ready to launch into a louder reprimand, but Laozi, who had been observing in silence, finally intervened.
"Enough. Both of you, stop this arguing."
"Tongtian, what your second brother says is not without reason. In a battle of life and death, one must utilize every available means. Even a formation is a part of your own strength and ability."
"Combat is not a game of temporary pride; the grand design must always be the priority. You possess the formation but refuse to use it—must you wait until you are facing your own demise before you deem it necessary? By then, it will be too late."
"I hope you can remember this lesson. Next time, do not let your impulses govern your actions."
Laozi spoke with a methodical, calm authority. Though his voice was light, the weight of a reprimand was clear. He sided with Yuanshi on this matter, clearly dissatisfied with Tongtian's hesitation. He and Yuanshi had been pushed to the brink of disaster while Tongtian stood there wavering. To put it bluntly, he didn't know if he would one day die because of Tongtian's misplaced sense of honor.
This was a dangerous mindset that Laozi felt compelled to correct.
"Big Brother, I never said I wouldn't use the formation. But it takes time to arrange. In the heat of such a chaotic battle, how could I have found the window to set it?" Tongtian explained, his tone still brittle with stubbornness.
Laozi let out a soft chuckle. "Your second brother and I would, of course, have provided the necessary delay for you."
Tongtian looked from Laozi to Yuanshi, and finally, he could only nod in silent concession. The conversation had reached a dead end; there was nothing left for him to say.
...
On the other side of the world.
Candle Nine Nethers, Gonggong, Houtu, Qiang Liang, Ju Mang, and Xi Zi—the six ancestral witches—had finally managed to limp back to their territory.
Of the six, only Candle Nine Nethers, Houtu, and Qiang Liang appeared physically intact. The other three were brought back in a state of near-death, dragged along by their less-injured siblings.
The moment they entered Pangu Temple, Di Jiang, Xuan Ming, and the others surrounded them. Seeing the tragic condition of their brothers, they were struck with immediate shock.
"What has happened? You went to deal with the Yao Race, did you not? Why were you beaten into such a state?" Di Jiang asked, his voice full of disbelief.
What has the Yao Race been eating to become so fierce? he wondered. Can six Ancestral Witches truly not handle them anymore? Have they made such staggering progress during their time listening to the Dao?
The sudden pressure of the unknown began to weigh on him.
Houtu heard the question and shook her head slightly. "It was not the Yao Race."
"Then was it the Sanqing?" Di Jiang followed up. It made more sense in his mind. The Sanqing were now the Disciples of the Dao Ancestor and possessed legendary Magic Treasures. If they had defeated the six witches, it would at least be a loss to established powerhouses.
"It was the Three Crows," Candle Nine Nethers answered, his complexion dark and unsightly. He had led this expedition, and the result was a disaster: six went out, and three came back as corpses-in-waiting.
"The... Three Crows?" Di Jiang didn't react for a moment. The title was unfamiliar to him, a name he rarely encountered in the daily affairs of the world.
After a pause, the realization hit him. The three Golden Crows of the Sun Star.
"Candle Nine Nethers, are you jesting with me? Three Golden Crows defeated six of you? And left you in this condition?"
Di Jiang looked at them with pure suspicion. Even if the Golden Crows had attained the Quasi-Saint realm, they shouldn't be capable of such overwhelming dominance.
"It was not just the six of us. Even the Sanqing were no match for them. They were hunted and beaten across the entire battlefield by the Three Crows," Candle Nine Nethers explained. He framed it this way to make their own failure seem less egregious—if even the Sanqing couldn't stand, losing wasn't a mark of uselessness.
"The three elite beasts of the Sanqing couldn't beat the Golden Crows?"
Di Jiang, Xuan Ming, and Zhu Rong were all stunned. The news felt surreal, as if it belonged to a different reality. They had fought the Sanqing many times; those three old Daoists grew more powerful with every encounter. With the treasures they had recently acquired, they should have been nearly invincible.
And yet, they were thrashed by the Three Crows?
The logic of the world seemed to be unraveling.
"That is not all," Qiang Liang added. He had been the most cautious during the fight with Ling Xiao, making sure not to rush the front lines. Had he been more reckless, there would be four witches lying on the floor instead of three. "The Two Sages of the West, the East King Duke, the Queen Mother of the West, Styx, and the entire host of the Yao Race... none of them were a match for the Three Crows."
He paused, then added a final, crushing detail. "Actually, to be precise, they all failed to defeat the one Golden Crow named Ling Xiao, even when fighting him together."
Silence fell over the temple.
An absolute, heavy silence.
The remaining six Ancestral Witches of Pangu Temple stared at the returnees, the same suspicion mirrored in all their eyes.
They began to wonder if Candle Nine Nethers, Houtu, and Qiang Liang had suffered some form of soul-damage that had affected their sanity.
Even if the twelve of them joined together, they couldn't possibly suppress that many powerhouses at once, could they?
And they were claiming that a single Golden Crow named Ling Xiao had done it single-handedly?
"Qiang Liang! Tell me exactly what happened! From the very beginning, speak the truth of it!" Di Jiang barked, finally realizing the terrifying gravity of the situation.
If Candle Nine Nethers and the others weren't exaggerating... then the world had just become a very frightening place.
Qiang Liang scratched his head and began to honestly describe the events from start to finish, though he carefully glossed over the specific details of his own beating at Ling Xiao's hands.
By the time he finished, Di Jiang and the other six witches were left in a state of profound confusion, sinking into deep, uneasy contemplation.
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